


Let's play house!

by PhoenixVenom



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Grimmjow doesn't stand a chance, Second Chance at Life, a thing happens, but it has no ending, it was meant to be funny, so I wrote it, sorry - Freeform, this thing just fell into my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:15:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixVenom/pseuds/PhoenixVenom
Summary: What does a mysterious force that vanishes everyone in its vicinity when it blows up actually do? <- Misleading sentence is misleading on purpose, have fun reading : DOr: In which Grimmjow is too cute for words.





	Let's play house!

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Ichigo being in his first year of university, and having come home for the holliday. So of course stuff happens.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this is more than seven pages long(!!!!) I am _so proud! _(Probably not a big deal for a lot of folks here, but i managed that all in a couple of days, and usually when I try to write, I just end up staring blankly and spending forever doing exactly nothing. I hate it x_x)__
> 
> __Anyway! Read on, and enjoy, hopefully!_ _

With shock, he watched the explosion unfold, as if in slow motion. Frozen by indecision, he hated that there was _nothing_ he could do against a phenomenon he knew nothing about. And it was all happening too _fast_. Before he could agonise any further, there was a blur of motion as something blue moved in front of him, and he acted on pure instinct, flinging out his massive spiritual force to shield not only himself, but the other figure as well. After that, the shockwave hit, and everything fell apart.

 

As the torrent settled down around him, the first thing to come to Ichigo's mind was to check that Grimmjow was alright. He knew, instinctually, that he hadn't acted fast enough, that the shield that he created for himself hadn't done as much for the other man and he hoped, desperately, that Grimmjow's own spiritual pressure had been enough to withstand the barrage. The rest... It pained him to take a stance like that, but he hadn't known them, and they had been far below the stipulated threshold limit. Actually, Ichigo was the only one who was above it, and that honestly scared him. More than just a little.

“Grimmjow!” He couldn't see the arrancar, couldn't feel him, either, and worry gnawed at his gut. After a moment, he mentally berated himself for not trying the one thing he _was_ good at when it came to sensing others, and immediately sought out the soul ribbon connected to the blue haired menace. To his relief, ha found it with relative ease, and even closer than he expected. That just left _finding_ him.

Ichigo looked around him. There was a lot of rubble; that explosion hadn't only taken the nearby souls, but most of the surrounding buildings as well. No sign of survivors, but that didn't have to mean anything, he told himself stubbornly. He at least _knew_ that much. He clutched the ribbon in his hand with more force than was probably necessary.

“Grimmjow!” he shouted again, louder this time. Hoping that the arrancar was conscious and able to reply. Repeating his shout, the young man started the arduous task of combing through the rubble for a tuft of blue hair, or any other recognisable characteristics. His right hand, holding the soul ribbon, trembled. Without his shouts, the surrounding area was deathly quiet, not even a whisper of wind disturbing the solemn atmosphere. A shiver involuntarily ran down the orange haired substitute's spine. It was too cold, too quiet.

Slowly, carefully, he took a step in the direction the soul ribbon dictated, hardly daring to breathe lest it disturb his ability to follow it, making his way by stepping on hardened spirit particles rather than the rubble-strewn ground, lest he miss a cue of sound because of the noise his own footfalls made. Nerves on edge, breathless, he rounded the edge of a nearby pile of rubble, and spotted a tiny tuft of blue, surrounded by torn fabric and strewn rocks. At once, all thought of treading carefully was gone from his head, and he rushed forward to dig his friend out of the pile of rubble he must be at least half buried in. The moment he crashed down into the rubble besides what _must_ be Grimmjow was the exact moment he knew something was horribly wrong. His spiritual pressure felt wrong. The picture was wrong. He wasn't _wearing_ his shredded clothes. There wasn't enough blue, and no motion at all. _Everything_ was wrong. Just _wrong_ . Ichigo felt like there was a block of ice in his stomach, but he couldn't just _stop_ , he had to get Grimmjow out of that godawful pile of rocks, to assess the damage, to check that he was still _alive_ , and that the ribbon in his hand wasn't just some cruel trick of his imagination. It took hardly any time digging at all before he stopped. Everything just _stopped_.

 

He had found Grimmjow. There was no denying that. It _had_ to be Grimmjow. But...

He hadn't been half buried in rocks, not at all. Just a few pebbles and his own shredded clothes. Ichigo swallowed, staring at the still figure in front of him. So far, no one had a clear idea what the energy blasts actually did, since whatever effect they had had killed everyone hit by it instantly, and there had been no time to assess the actual mechanics of it. But now, Ichigo had a pretty clear idea, and he hated it intensely. But not, he suspected, as much as Grimmjow would.

Trembling still, he reached out to the tiny figure in front of him, almost afraid he'd hurt him if he touched him. At the same time, he knew that he couldn't possibly leave a baby alone out here, defenceless and with no one to look after it.

With all the care he could muster, he lifted the tiny figure, wrapping him up in his own now pretty much useless clothes. Suddenly aware of where he was, and that it wasn't exactly safe for someone with a baby or a toddler on his arm (he couldn't quite pinpoint Grimmjow's apparent age, except that he was tiny, and looked so, so fragile). As carefully as he could, he adjusted his hold on the bundle in his arm, and flash-stepped away, still unsure where to bring his precious burden. The boy was still an arrancar, as evidenced by the very same tells that his adult form had, and that complicated things considerably. With some luck, he'd turn back on his own after regaining his strength, just like Nel, but he doubted it; there was no crack in his mask fragment, for one. (Something which, honestly, he was grateful for. Nel could vouch for that not being a favourable existence.) Hugging the small form closer, he decided on taking him home, in case this whole thing resolved itself, and unwilling to entrust him to anyone else. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends, just... Not everyone liked Grimmjow, and some of them had good reasons, beyond just what he was.

 

By the time he made it to his room it was dark, and the rest of the household seemed to all have fallen asleep. He should probably have checked in with Urahara to let him know what he had learned, and that he was okay, but all that had fallen downwards on his priority list, and at the top of it now stood only one thing: sleep. Both for himself, and for... Grimmjow. He had to figure that out, but that had to happen tomorrow. When his mind wasn't so damn scattered.

Taking a couple of minutes to check the tiny arrancar over again, to make sure he hadn't overlooked any scrapes or wounds, he then wrapped him up again in his own jacket, before he returned to his body so he could prepare for bed.

Suddenly feeling very protective, he couldn't bring himself to let the little arrancar out of his sight for even a moment, and ended up carrying him on one arm while brushing his teeth. It probably wasn't necessary: nothing could really get to him inside the house, and yet... Better to be safe. Or so he told himself when he settled down, tiny bundle cradled carefully in his arms. Hopefully they'd both wake up in the morning. Just before he fell all the way asleep, Ichigo couldn't help but weakly hope that if Grimmjow was going to turn back to his adult self, then he would wait at least till after they'd both gotten out of bed, because otherwise things would get really awkward, and Ichigo himself would probably get a taste of the other man's fists as thanks for his troubles.

 

The next morning, the orange haired teen woke up to something wriggling in his face and the irritated grumbling of a small toddler. For a moment while his mind caught up, it was incredibly disorienting, because _'What the hell...?'_ But then the previous day's occurrences came back to him, and he promptly buried his face in his pillow with a groan. What the _hell_ was he supposed to do with a toddler-sized Grimmjow? Reluctantly looking over at the aforementioned problem, lying approximately two inches away from his face and making some uncomfortably unhappy sounds, Ichigo groaned again, before hauling himself into a sitting position. This was going to be a shit day, he could already tell. First of all, he was hungry, and he couldn't exactly just bring Grimmjow down with him for breakfast. And his conscience wouldn't let him leave the toddler for even the short few minutes it would take to fetch some food. Also, he needed food for the arrancar, and he had no clue what he could give him. Did he have more reishi pills? Would it be okay to give that to a baby? Was it even a baby? Was it possible he could ask his dad about this? Considering it made him uncomfortable. But then, this whole situation made him uncomfortable, and there was no way he'd be able to hide it from everyone, and he probably (okay, _definitely_ ) needed help. And honestly, his dad was as good a place to start as any. Didn't mean he had to be comfortable with it.

Waiting until he felt Yuzu and Karin leave the house, he scooped up Grimmjow in his jacket and made his way downstairs. _Definitely_ didn't have to mean he was comfortable. At. All.

Swallowing thickly, then drawing a deep breath, he made his way into the kitchen, where he knew his father still to be.

“Ichigo, you're up late today,” his father commented, without immediately turning to face his son. On some level, Ichigo was glad.

“Hi, dad,”Ichigo replied, rather stiffly, despite his effort to conceal his nerves.

Intrigued by the uncharacteristic tone in his son's voice, Isshin turned around, and stopped dead in his tracks. Ichigo, every bit as tense, and twice as nervous, didn't dare to so much as move a single muscle. Both his arms were wrapped protectively around his little bundle, whose only visible feature was a tuft of bright blue hair.

 

Isshin had _not_ had enough coffee this morning to deal with this. Quickly realising he would have to deal with it anyway, he untensed with a sigh, and reached for the coffee machine. Then he waved for Ichigo to sit, while he made him breakfast and the coffee brewed. Once the breakfast and the coffee was done and the both of them were sat down at the table, the elder of them gestured for the younger to either have his breakfast or start explaining. Ichigo, still tense, carefully adjusted his bundle so that his right hand was free and he could eat. The jostle caused a string of discontented grumbles from the blue haired bundle of blankets, and Ichigo was instantly distracted into shushing it, calming what- or whoever was inside. Isshin's eyes instantly softened at the sight. He carefully schooled his expression into neutrality before his son had the time to look up. Waiting, he took another sip of his coffee. It was probably made a little too strong. He also probably wanted it to be sake in stead.

Finally, Ichigo finishes his breakfast, and, still clearly reluctant, looks up to meet his dad's eyes. It's a tense few moments before he breaks eye contact and clears his throat.

“So, um...” he tries, but can't seem to find the right words. He can't seem to find a place to rest his eyes, either. Isshin takes pity on him, somewhat. He _is_ curious about what could have happened. His suspicions all make little to no sense.

“Why don't you start by telling me who our guest is?” he suggests, and watches as his son struggles with himself probably more than he expected from that question.

“It's...” After a little more squirming, he seems to take hold of himself, sighs, and looks down at the bundle in his arms.

“It's.. Grimmjow. It's Grimmjow,” he repeats, as if the repetition helps to cement the fact, somehow. It does, actually, and Isshin finds himself staring at the otherwise unidentifiable bundle a lot harder than it probably deserves. Whatever happened, he seriously doubts that the arrancar had a part in it if that was how it ended for him. He sighs, clutching his coffee cup a little harder.

“Why don't you try explaining how that happened?” he suggests, hoping for his dear life that this is something they can fix. He doesn't like that look on his son's face, especially when he's still so young himself. He _knows_ what will happen if Grimmjow's condition can't be reversed. It won't matter one whit that he's an arrancar.

“Well... You know that energy signature that we've been tracing? Urahara thought he'd be able to figure it out if he could get some energy readings from close up, but... Um, the readings from the one device that survived made no sense, and eventually he decided that everyone just had to try and stay away for the time being, until he could figure out what it actually does. Then yesterday... I ended up being close to one, and Grimmjow just suddenly came jumping in front of me, out of nowhere. I managed to shield us with my spiritual pressure – it's the only thing we know that is dense enough to weather the blast – but Grimmjow took some of the brunt of it before I could react, and well, I guess now we know what it does.” The teen looked rather more despondent than amused at his own words, despite them being being presented in a way to show humour. Isshin couldn't help but stare. Somewhere deep down, he felt obligated to be grateful that he wasn't dealing with two toddlers: that his son at least had weathered the blast without visible damage.

Before either of them could think of anything more to say, Grimmjow started wriggling again, and this time it didn't look as though it was likely that he would stay quiet. As he started wailing, Ichigo tried desperately to calm him down by rocking him like he'd seen parents do with their young children, but to no avail, and the look he sent his dad showed more than a tiny bit of panic.

“I- Do you know what I could give him to eat? I have some reishi-pills lying around, but I don't really know if that's gonna work. Can you even give that to a kid?” Isshin just looked back at his son for a moment, honestly a little overwhelmed by all the sudden questions. And why did Ichigo have reishi-pills lying around? Never mind. It was probably their best bet right now. If the kid was indeed still an arrancar, like he presumed, then he needed spiritual energy rather than regular food, and the pills were by far the most convenient form of it for consumption. Still, the question of it being appropriate food for a child, especially one as apparently young as this one, was one he was honestly unsure of. He heaved another sigh.

“If you go and find those pills, I'll see if I can determine how much of one, or how many, he might need in one go,” he told Ichigo, completely resigned to helping out as the only viable option.

His son nodded shortly before getting up, still with the tiny bundle of arrancar in his arms, which he tried to softly rock into silence while walking up the stairs to his room.

Isshin, meanwhile, let out another long breath. He had the strong feeling he would have to keep the clinic closed for the day, if just to give his mind time to wrap itself around this new development in his family's life. All too soon, Ichigo emerged back down the stairs, and the adult had to put his game-face back on. He took the small packet from his son's hand, pretending not to notice how protective he acted even around him, his own father, and took out one pill to examine it closely.

“Ah, these are the type that can be broken into smaller pieces. That's good. One third to half of one should do for one meal, two or three whole pills per day. That said, I don't think keeping him like this is a good idea for very long.” Predictably, Ichigo's automatic response was to tighten his grip around Grimmjow, to the pint where the toddler started grumbling again.

“Have you considered getting a gigai for him, if the situation doesn't change?” He could tell how the question caught the teenager off guard by the way his hold on the child arrancar instantly loosened a little, just enough for him to not complain any more.

“I- yeah, I guess, but... I don't know. I just don't feel like going to Urahara just yet.” Ichigo sounded a little like the confession was dragged out of him, but at the same time, Isshin understood. His son had every reason to have mixed feelings about his old friend. Taking back the packet of reishi-pills, Ichigo took out one and carefully broke it into three equal pieces, then taking one piece and holding it in front of Grimmjow's face, who suddenly came wide awake, and looked at it with avid interest. “I guess you know that this is food to you, huh?” Ichigo mused, putting it to the toddler's lips, and grimacing slightly as the little cretin bit right into his fingers to get to it.

“Ouch! Don't eat my fingers, you little...” But his expression instantly softened again, and he couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. Before either of them could think anything further, a small hand emerged from the blanket (that was still really just Grimmjow's own jacket wrapped around him), eagerly reaching for the rest of the reishi-pills.

“Nuh-uh, nope. Don't even think about it. You got one, now you have to wait until later for more,” Ichigo said sternly, clearly making an effort not to give in to the two enormous blue eyes staring at him. They were the only part of the arrancar that didn't seem to have shrunk at all.

Isshin couldn't help but smile at the picture the two made. It made his heart ache, it was so sweet.

 

Eventually, despite Ichigo's excessive protectiveness towards the tiny arrancar, Isshin managed to argue that he should have a look at him, to check that he was in good health, besides being the size of a young child, and being an arrancar (read: dead). It also gave him the chance to better assess how old he was, physically. It was, well, disturbing, really, to examine such a young child that had a literal _hole_ right through it, and Ichigo was standing right at the side, worrying his lip constantly, to the point where Isshin expected him to make himself bleed any second. Soon enough, he was happy to give him a clean bill of health, cautioning that he didn't really know that much about arrancar physiology, and that his assessment depended on the assumption that it resembled humans enough that he had any base to go off at all. That out of the way, Isshin surprised Ichigo by procuring baby clothes – probably Ichigo's own – that fit the arrancar decently, so that he didn't have to be uncomfortably wrapped up in the jacket any more.

“He seems to be somewhere between a year and a half and two years old,” he commented, watching his son and the young child interacting on the floor in front of the sofa from the doorframe. Ichigo looked up shortly, before turning his attention back on the blue haired toddler.

“Huh.”

After a short while, he looked back up at his dad.

“Shouldn't he be talking, at that age?” he asked, unsure.

“Usually, children have started talking around that age, yes, but at this point, he could still just be unsure of his surroundings. You have to remember that we don't even know what _he_ might still remember. We just have to be patient. He'll probably talk when he feels like it.” Ichigo nodded. It all made perfect sense.

 

After a few days, it became clear that it was unlikely that the situation with Grimmjow was going to resolve itself, and Ichigo admitted to himself that at this point, he just had to bite into the sour apple and take his problem to Urahara. He didn't like it, not even one bit, but then again there wasn't anything _to_ like about this situation. Least of all the cause of it.

Having made up his mind, the last thing he had to make up his mind about was wether he should go in his soul form or in his body. Each had its pros and cons. In the end he decided on going as a soul reaper, if only because it would be faster, and by the time they were going back it would undoubtedly be far past dark anyway. He brought a few reishi-pills just in case the toddler got hungry.

After having deposited his own body on his bed, he cradled Grimmjow, once again wrapped in his jacket, safely in his arm, before bidding his family a shirt goodbye and flash-stepping away to Urahara's shop.

To say the blond man was surprised to see him would be an understatement. It was also nothing compared to the bog-eyed expression he got when he spotted what the teenager was carrying.

“I-is that...?” he started, hesitant to finish the question.

“Grimmjow, yeah. Move over, I'd like to not have this conversation outside. He'll get cold.” Too pertubed by the situation to do anything else, Urahara wordlessly led the way inside. Once they were both seated in the back room, the older man made a second attempt at conversation.

“So. It seems we finally have some leadway in what the phenomenon actually does, no?” The tone attempted to be pleasant, but was clearly a little bit strained. Ichigo just scowled. Urahara tipped his hat forward.

“Have you thought about how you might best deal with him?” he asked, and for all the blandness of his voice the question carried a clear suggestion. Ichigo hugged the toddler in his arms close to his chest, and _sneered_. This was _exactly_ why he hadn't gone to Urahara first. He could be so _incredibly_ distasteful at times.

“He's a _child_ ,” he practically hissed, still not letting up on his protective grip. There was a feeling of vicious satisfaction at the visible flinch from the older man. He _should_ feel bad, suggesting something like that.

“Very well. What would you suggest, then?” the tone of the question was very carefully neutral, but it was at least an improvement. Ichigo allowed himself a short glance down at the light blue mop of hair just below his chin.

“I... If he doesn't show any sign of turning back, I'd like for you to make him a gigai. One he can grow in. I... could raise him.” He was very definitely not looking at his mentor, but not because he wasn't sure of his words. Being sure of himself didn't necessarily mean he wanted to see other people's reactions, especially when he was as certain as he was that the people in question didn't agree with him.

Urahara, for his part, sat in stunned silence. He knew, of course, how incredibly stubborn and hard-headed this kid could be, and also what lengths he would go to for those that he cared about, but somehow, this level of maturity that he showed continued to surprise him every time he brandished it. Possibly, he had to admit, because this teenager routinely showed more maturity than soul reapers centuries his senior. With a heavy sigh, the former captain made his decision.

“If it is your decision, then I will do what I can to assist,” he replied solemnly. He owed the kid at least that much. They all did. And maybe, just maybe, a little voice at the back of his skull chimed, they owed Grimmjow that much as well.

A whole slew of tension seemed to melt right off the shoulders of the young man in front of him, though he took note that his grip on the tiny figure that was now Grimmjow didn't loosen one fraction, and the child, oddly enough, didn't seem to mind at all. Or maybe he was just fast asleep.

“So you'll help?” the young man asked, apparently in need of additional affirmation. Urahara, sadly, could not blame him.

“Yes, I'll help,” he confirmed.

“I will have to examine him, though. What you have asked of me is no easy feat, and very accurate readings are necessary. Have you considered how best to restrain his spiritual pressure?” At the question, Ichigo gave a start, and the hard stare that he'd been training on Urahara's left shoulder to be slightly less impolite, suddenly turned thoughtful, and only slightly angrier.

“Don't. I mean, I know that we can't let his spiritual pressure freely affect others, especially if he's going to be near humans, but... Isn't there a way to, I don't know, make sure his spiritual strength isn't hindered from building itself back up, but just sort of shielded from affecting people around him?” Ichigo hoped there was. There should be, considering that was basically how his substitute pass worked, along with the seal he now had to wear too, following the dramatic increase in his spiritual pressure in the latest war, and his massively underwhelming success at learning to suppress it by himself.

Urahara considered the suggestion. While it would be a challenge, it wasn't undoable, and honestly probably was by far the better choice for the arrancar, at least. And, if he phrased himself right, he could have an easy and safe way to keep track of his developments, something that would benefit everyone.

“I'll do my very best,” he promised, with sincerity.

“If you'll come this way, we'd best continue this in my laboratory.”

A very nervous ginger with a blue haired toddler in his arms followed the scientist, and Urahara idly wondered if it would be possible to pry the child out of his arms at all. He certainly wasn't strong enough to do so by force.

 

Several hours later, and more tired than he ever cared to be, Ichigo finally stepped back out of Urahara's laboratory. It had been tense, and entirely unpleasant for everyone involved, but thankfully, at least Grimmjow had fallen asleep by the time his gigai was done and ready for him to wear, and just as luckily he hadn't woken up when they put him in it. Ichigo worried for him, especially when remembering how his friends always complained about the uncomfortable fit of their gigai, but Urahara reassured him that the one he made for the toddler was much different, made for him especially, and would be a much more comfortable fit, hopefully hardly noticeable at all. If he had done everything right and been lucky, it should be more like Ichigo's own body than a regular gigai. The teen let himself be reassured by that. The alternative was fretting endlessly, and he just didn't have the energy left for that.

He made his final goodbye, to Urahara, then Tessai, before he left through the front door, glad for the privacy and the late hour, because anyone who saw a floating toddler outside would probably freak out. Without another thought or a backward glance, he set off back to his house. Not even pausing outside, he jumped right through his own bedroom window and almost directly into his physical body. After actually getting into his body, he picked the little arrancar toddler up from where he had laid him down beside himself on the bed, before bringing him downstairs. To say he was more nervous now than the morning when he told his father about all this would probably not be an overstatement. After all, his sisters' opinions really mattered to him, and even if he wouldn't be living with them for much longer, they would both have to deal with a toddler in the house for the rest of summer vacation.

The introduction had gone as well as could be expected, with Yuzu cooing and Karin snorting derisively, but secretly fawning over the sleeping toddler nearly as much as her sister, though more quietly. His father, of course, made twice as big of a deal of it as both of his sisters combined, and pretended ( _very_ loudly) to be as surprised about this development as they were, despite knowing all about it already. Ichigo ignored it, more worried, now, about returning to school. Grimmjow couldn't quite pass for preschool-aged, he thought, and that meant he had to ask to bring him to class, and hope he stayed quiet. The more he though on it, the more he started to question if he may have taken on more than he could handle, but then he shook it off, deciding that what was done was done, and he just had to find a way to deal with it.

 

Stopping mid-sentence, the professor paused for a moment, as there was a knock on the door. The class hadn't formally started yet, so there was no reason for anyone to be knocking at this point. However, when a familiar, bright orange head of hair poked through the doorway, looking far more nervous than the professor had seen him on any previous occasion, it was certainly a source of curiosity. 

“Ah, could you maybe come out here and talk for a bit, professor?” Kurosaki Ichigo asked, still uncharacteristically hesitant. Nodding, the professor wondered what it could possibly be about, to make the young man this fidgety. The moment she was through the door, that became perfectly clear. On Kurosaki's arm was a toddler. A toddler with, of all things, bright _**blue**_ hair. 

“What seems to be the matter?” the professor asked, despite it being quite clear. She needed the boy to say it out loud.

“I, ah, umm...” Clearing his throat once, he tried again: “This is Grimmjow, my-” deep breath “-son. I'm sorry for not telling you in advance, but it was a bit sudden. I also hoped I could bring him to class, since I don't have anyone who can watch him for me. He's quiet, I promise.” The worried, but also slightly desperate look in his eyes spoke to the sincerity of his words, and the professor was inclined to believe him, though it was bizarre, and the name was definitely odd. Not to mention the hair. Now, to be professional.

“As long as he doesn't disrupt the lecture, I see no reason why you couldn't have him there,” she answered in a measured tone, watching as Kurosaki's entire body sagged with what must be relief at her words. 

“Thank you so much, professor. I'll make sure.” The earnestness in his voice was almost painful. She nodded her head, tossed it to the side, indicating the door to the classroom.

“Now get your ass inside before we're both late,” she gruffed, but in good humour. Kurosaki nodded once more gratefully, before complying. He got plenty of stares from the other students as soon as Grimmjow's blue head was visible, but a stern glare from their professor had them settling down without any further commotion. 

 

///

“If you don't mind my asking, how come his hair is blue?”

“Oh, um... It grows out that way. I really don't know how.”

“That's unbelievable.”

“Sorry, professor, but it's true.”

“Yeah, now get back to class. You do have class, right?”

“... Yes.”

///

 

In the end, most of his professors had no problem with Grimmjow, as long as he remained quiet, and Ichigo was  _really_ glad, because he had no idea what he would do with him otherwise, and he was also really glad he had his own apartment rather than a dorm room, because that would have gotten messy real quick. As it was, he was quickly growing a “weirdo” stamp bigger than he'd had in a long time, but at least people were still talking to him, unlike in middle school, when everyone was offended because he wouldn't tell them his secret to being allowed to dye his hair orange (ha). It looked like Grimmjow would have to grow up with that same problem, if he didn't turn back on his own sooner, which at this point, Ichigo had no real faith in. It looked like he was in this for the long haul, and now that he'd had a bit of time to get to terms with that, he found that he was perfectly okay with it. Looking over at Grimmjow sitting beside him on the couch, he reached out and ruffled the little boy's blue hair. 

“What do you say, Grimmjow, are you ready to go make dinner?” 

As attentive blue eyes settled on him, he smiled and held out a hand, leading the boy along to the kitchen to have him “help” make dinner. At the moment, it only caused more mess, but he knew that it was important to have fun cooking as a child, and besides, he didn't mind the mess terribly. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Do I regret doing this? No. Would I like for it to be longer? Certainly, but this is all I'm able to get down for now, and I'm marking it complete, because although I have a lot more of this floating around in my head, I don't see myself actually getting any more of it down in the foreseeable future, and any additions can be a happy surprise ^^
> 
> If anyone would like to expand on this, or borrow the idea, or continue it or whatever, then feel free to do so, and please tell me so I can read it!


End file.
